


The Duck Pond

by aldriankyrrith



Category: Supernatural, The Sandman (Comics)
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-12
Updated: 2014-06-12
Packaged: 2018-02-04 08:55:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1773229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aldriankyrrith/pseuds/aldriankyrrith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two Deaths of very different temperaments meet beside a duck pond. And they converse. One Shot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Duck Pond

He didn't usually come to this universe. The two of them didn't quite get along all that much. They were closer long ago, back before she took leave of her senses and started acting all _giddy_. But, for all of her quirks, she had his respect. She was responsible, after all. She knew her duties and she attended to them better than most in her family, and better than most of the many Gods and Beings and people that he knew.  
  
She was still a dotty one though, and as he came closer he found her standing over a duck pond, with an umbrella over her shoulder and a bag of bread in one hand, and she was smiling an infectious grin that was so blindingly genuine. She tossed crumbs and morsels into the waters below and, with all the excitement of a toddler, she clapped her hands as she watched the ducks going at it.  
  
"I don't quite understand your fascination with such petty pursuits," he said, standing beside her, towering, gaunt and so very, very cold.  
  
She turned to face at him and her smile was blinding. "Death! It's been ages since your last visit. I wasn't expecting you today of all days. You never visit on this day."  
  
"Indeed," he said. "It is a strange quirk in your home universe and I never quite saw the point of it."  
  
She shook her head and then she started laughing. "And now I know why you're such a spoilsport."  
  
"I swear I'll never understand how your mind works, Death."  
  
"Call me Demi."  
  
"I see." He clearly did not.  
  
She nodded, "On any other day I would be called Death of the Endless, but not this day." She smiled as she looked out over the water, "You know, I only get one day every century for this, and each time, I look forward to it and am always so sad to see it go."  
  
"Really? I'd think it would be rather tedious. They're such ants, after all."  
  
"They're giants," she corrected and there was a profound silence shared between them.  
  
She broke that moment with a flippant aside. "Maybe if you'd join the tradition once in a while, you'd have less of a stick up your butt. It's quite fun actually. Gives us a proper appreciation for our role in the cosmos, how we are looked upon by those that we collect."  
  
"I suppose that's just another point where we'll have to disagree."  
  
She looked at him, and there was a flickering of sadness that crossed her face. "You know, I feel sorry for you, Death."  
  
"I don't see why. I am perfectly content with my arrangements."  
  
She shook her head, "Then I feel sorry for you all the more. To neither laugh nor cry, to know no bonds of affection or friendship or family. It's not much of a life."  
  
"It suffices."  
  
She nodded, "I still find it sad."  
  
"Then I accept your compassion," Death agreed, pulling out his pocket watch. "You know, this day you love so much is about to end in three more minutes. I'm afraid I'll be there to reap you this time."  
  
She smiled blindingly. "I knew I'd get you to do it eventually."  
  
"You were annoying."  
  
"You still love me."  
  
He looked at her as if she were a misbehaving puppy. "You are impossible."  
  
The clock counted down and the two Deaths sat down together upon the bank beside of the duck pond. She handed him the loaf of bread, and beckoned towards the ducks.  
  
"I don't see the point," he said. "You'll be dead in..." he checked the watch, "three minutes and twenty seven seconds."  
  
She nodded. "That's exactly the point. With so little time, every last second counts."  
  
He looked at her, and he didn't understand. Still, he always found it easier to humor Death of the Endless when she was feeling sentimental. It made no difference.  
  
He tossed the crumbs into the waters and watched as the ducks began to gather.  
  
Demi stopped him and said, "You're doing it wrong."  
  
And then she spread the bread out, whole loafs of it, on the ground beside them, and the ducks came tromping out of the waters and attacking the loaves in a flurry of greed and activity and life. And Demi was watching, her eyes glued upon the birds as they lived their simple bird lives. And all the while, the ticking of the clock counted down into its final minute.  
  
"This is really how you'd wish to spend your only day of living?" he asked, disapproval coloring his voice. "Feeding ducks?"  
  
"Feeding ducks with a friend," she corrected.  
  
"I repeat. It doesn't seem like much."  
  
"It's everything," she responded as the clock ticked midnight.  
  
He stretched out his hands and she grasped it.  
  
And with the sound of two great wings, vaster and more powerful than could possibly be imagined, the two disappeared.  
  
And only the ducks remained.


End file.
